


Long Live the King

by enviropony



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Excalibur, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-17
Updated: 2011-12-17
Packaged: 2017-10-27 11:44:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/295487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enviropony/pseuds/enviropony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is skeptical, the Druid is insistent, and Merlin knows something. There's also some kneeling and cheering. SPOILERS for 4x12/13</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Live the King

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Transformative work for entertainment purposes only. _Merlin_ does not belong to me. (If it did, there would be _way_ more dragons).
> 
> A/N: Just a speculative, spoilery fic that probably isn't how the series will end at all. Still, to be safe: SPOILERS for 4x12/13

\- - -

Arthur walked up to the stone while the Druid was still talking. He put a hand on the sword, and felt it shift. “It doesn’t feel like it’s stuck, to me,” he said, giving a tug. The sword slid upward smoothly, and he drew it out of the stone with a frown on his face. “Didn’t any of you actually try to...” he began, faltering as he looked around. Everybody was kneeling. “...pull it out?”

“Only the true King of Albion has the power to pull the sword Excalibur from its stone prison,” the Druid intoned from his spot at Arthur’s feet.

“Really?” Arthur drawled, glancing to his right. Merlin was kneeling also, but there was something like a smug grin peaking out from beneath that black mop of hair. “And who told you that?”

“It was Forseen,” the Druid declared. “The sword was created for the future King of Albion, and only he may draw and wield it.”

“You’re mistaken,” Arthur said, lowering his voice so that it wouldn’t carry across the clearing. “I am not even king over my own lands, at present.”

“You will be,” the Druid assured, “and more besides.” Then he raised his voice, and shouted, “Long live the King!”

“Long live the King!” Arthur's people echoed - the knights, servants and peasants who had followed him out of Camelot after Morgana’s attack.

“Long live the King!” the Druid cried again, and now the men and women he’d brought with him also shouted, “Long live the King!”

“Long live the King!” a third time, only now it was Merlin leading the chant, a ringing depth to his voice Arthur didn’t think he’d ever heard before.

“Long live the King!” echoed back, every voice in the clearing raised in unison. “Long live the King! Long live the King!”

“But...” Arthur began, weakly, almost to himself, even as something within urged him to raise Excalibur above his head, and the people before him clapped and cheered. “I don’t...” he stuttered, but his words were lost in the raucous noise.

There was a sudden roar, like a rush of giant wings, and in his head, a voice he’d never thought to hear again - the voice of the Great Dragon - growled, _Arthur, you idiot, that sword was made for YOU!_

Arthur started, staring around wildly, but there was no dragon in the skies above the rejoicing crowd.

When he turned again to his right, Merlin caught his eye, threw back his head, and laughed.

-end-


End file.
